


Grief cuts deeper than swords

by Mytiny_Sybarite



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 17:28:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/864681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mytiny_Sybarite/pseuds/Mytiny_Sybarite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cat realises she'll never wake up next to Ned ever again. Prompt from asoiafkinkmeme</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grief cuts deeper than swords

 

Sunlight floods the room and her eyelids flutter open. Dust motes float lazily and the air is warm and slow like honey. She turns her face into the coolness of the pillow and then rolls over to face Ned. But he’s still in King’s Landing…

She believes it for half a heartbeat, sleep dazed and languid, before the pulse of adrenaline floods her body. Something about that is wrong. Then the knowledge crashes into her mind like a jar of wildfire exploding, unstoppable and unforgiving, burning the air from her lungs. _No, don’t remember this… just go back to sleep…_ But just as wildfire can't be forced safely back into the fragments of the broken jar, the knowledge can't be forgotten now.

The deep, hollow ache in her chest has already taken hold and she reaches for his side of the bed. Her palm rests on the cold sheets and it isn’t enough; this isn’t even a bed they’ve shared. The sheets don’t smell of him. It isn’t enough. _Would it be any easier if this was our bed…? He’ll never be with me again, no matter the place_. She clenches her fist and pulls in tight against her chest, against her heart. _Never be here._

The heat wells up behind her eyes and spills over. The pain ripples through her, cutting deeper than the Valyrian Steel that had sliced to her bones. She lets herself sob into the pillow and she can’t imagine ever being able to feel anything but this.

Eventually she lets her tears ebb away, replaced by a fierce headache to match the pain in her chest. She holds herself, arms wrapped around her own body as though it could be enough. She brushes her knuckles gently down the side of her own face, as Ned used to do when she was sad or troubled…

_When I smile, it’s you I want to share it with. When I’m scared, it’s your arms I need around me. When I’m cold in bed, it’s you I want wrapped around me. When I’m filled with lust, it’s you I want inside me. And when I’m sad, it’s you I want to hold me. More than anything._

She yearns for it to be his hand on her face, and not her own touches that only feel like ghosts.

_It shouldn’t be this way… This isn’t our war!_

She feels a fury rise in her. At those who had done this for their stupid, petty reasons.

_I don’t care who is king, I don’t care who fathered your children, I don’t care about any of it, just give me back my family!_

She shakes with anger at the unfairness of it, pummels her pillows and cries again until she’s drained and numb. She longs for sleep, longs to return to the sweet, painless oblivion of unconsciousness. In her dreams he isn’t dead. In her dreams they’re back at Winterfell and Robert had never come to them. They’re happy. Arya running wild, fighting with boys and winning; Bran climbing the towers and buildings; Sansa begging Ned to make the visiting singer stay longer; Rickon beginning his training with Rodrik Cassel; Robb getting betrothed to a good Northern girl, a Glover or a Mormont... And Cat herself expecting another babe. She cradles her belly and remembers Ned’s face when he had first held each of their children, remembers his pride and love, and remembers their first words and steps and snowball fights and hard lessons and easy laughter…

And then she remembers that her children still need their mother. And she gets up, wipes her eyes and dresses. And when she leaves her chambers you almost can’t tell she’s been crying.

 

 

 


End file.
